


The Bridge

by Sian265



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sian265/pseuds/Sian265
Summary: A/N: Spoilers though Cerulean SinsA/N2: This story was the result of a brief passage in Cerulean Sins between Anita, Jean-Claude, and Asher.Summary: The Bridge has allowed Jean-Claude and Asher to love one another, but Asher cannot learn to cross it.//Indicates memory, past event, or flashback//Written in March 2005





	1. Introduction

**The Bridge**  
Introduction

 

He stood still and breathless, as only the very old could do. A single candle burned, it alone lighting his golden hair and pale flesh. Asher watched from a corner of the room as the other two occupants met in a kiss, arms wrapped tightly about one another. He watched, silent, as their hands stroked and their lips caressed. He knew he could walk across the room and join them, was welcome to wrap his arms about them and taste her kisses, feel her touch, but never any longer his alone. It had been so very long since he had tasted a kiss from Jean-Claude's lips, felt Jean-Claude's touch upon his body, so long, that it was all he longed for.

Asher had been in their bed. He had tasted their passion, their desire. But never without her, and before her, was Julianna. Never could he hold the one he loved; neither knew how to cross the bridge that separated them. Their love and desire for one another for so long had been expressed across that bridge, first Julianna, and now, Anita. Asher could no longer remember what Jean-Claude tasted like without the taste of another also mixed in. He had loved Julianna, he loved Anita still, but the only one he had ever been "in love" with was Jean-Claude.

Asher silently left the room. If they had noticed his presence, he took no notice of it himself. Like a ghost, not the vampire he was, Asher roamed the halls of the Circus, coming at last to his quarters, his refuge. Moving to the large cherry wardrobe, he removed his clothes, pulling on only a thin amber-colored robe. The chair he curled up in faced a blank stone wall, but Asher's eyes were turned inward, his gaze blank as he waited to see which one would follow. He smelled her scent before she slipped through the door. That he had not come himself pierced Asher sharply.

Anita pulled the robe she wore tighter about her body as she climbed in Asher's lap, curling herself confidently in his embrace. "What's wrong, Asher?" she asked, her voice softer than one might expect from the Executioner.

Asher sighed and kissed the dark head that rested against his chest. "I have been fooling myself, ma chérie," he whispered, and tightened his hold on her, perhaps knowing the affect his words were going to have.

He looked down, meeting those frank dark eyes. He saw the questions in them. "I can no longer live with only knowing him through another's touch. I thought I could, could return us to the feelings we had when with Julianna, but I have changed. What was once enough is no longer enough. My heart wants more. I do not want to come to hate or resent that bridge. That bridge allows us to be close, to love one another, but all I can think of, dream of, is a way to cross it and finally reclaim what my heart desires. I think perhaps, it is time for me to go." Asher stared at the blank wall, no longer meeting Anita's gaze.

Anita rose from Asher's lap and paced the room furiously. "I thought everything was fine now. That you were happy, that is thing between the three of us was working out." she said, confusion clearly in her voice.

Asher's gaze met hers bravely this time. "You and Jean-Claude see what it is you want to see," he answered simply, his voice weary.

"Then explain it to me, Asher. You want Jean-Claude for yourself? You wish to fuck him without me?" she asked.

Asher rose and stalk towards her. "You cannot give me permission for that, Anita," he spat. "Nor should I have to ask for it!"

Anita rubbed a hand across her brow, anger leaving her somewhat deflated. She had thought them through this. "Asher, "she began, striving for some semblance of calm. "I am sorry, okay? Sorry that I am not comfortable with the thought of the two of you having sex without me. Hell, it took me a while just to get to the point were I could accept the two of you in the same bed at the same time."

Her words did not ease Asher's anger, only fueled the resentment he had begun to feel. "I am sick of worrying, Anita, about what you can stomach, what you would be comfortable with. Can you not understand? This is not about you!" Asher almost screamed the last. He flung himself away from her, facing that blank wall with eyes and fist tightly clenched.

The room was silent for several minutes, only the sound of Anita's breathing filling the room. Finally, her voice broke the stillness. "So if I told you that I was okay with the two of you fucking like bunnies, you'd stay?" she asked.

Asher didn't look at her. He almost choked on breath that he had no need of. "Do you really think it is your permission that stops us? I wish it were that simple."

"Then tell me what does," Anita said, only in her typical fashion she made it an order. Asher smiled briefly. He loved how she could do that to him; shake him into near-laughter simply by being herself. He did love her. He wished that were enough for him.

Asher turned to face Anita, a single pink-tinted tear trailing down his cheek. "I want to cross that bridge that has allowed us to love one another. Bridge the abyss that keeps us always with someone else between us. I want to taste Jean-Claude's kiss upon my own lips, feel his touch upon my own body once more, no longer through another, Anita. That is what I want." Asher reached up and angrily wiped his face. "But I also know, I can never have that," he turned his back to her once more.

"That is why I am leaving," he whispered...

To be continued...  
  
---


	2. The Skirmish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers though Cerulean Sins  
> A/N2: This story was the result of a brief passage in Cerulean Sins between Anita, Jean-Claude, and Asher.  
> Summary: The Bridge has always allowed Jean-Claude and Asher to love one another, but they have never learned to cross it.  
> // indicates flashback

**The Bridge**  
Skirmish

 

The women screamed, their blood pumping with excitement, the flashing music and lights designed to raise them to a fever pitch. They waved their green flags of money, hoping to entice the dancing male body closer to them, just for a small greedy taste or a quick feel of firm flesh. Asher watched all this from behind a two-way mirror overlooking the stage at Guilty Pleasures. He stood alone in the manager's office, eyes trained below, but not really looking at the show. Instead his awareness was on the vampire moving through the club below, coming closer and closer to where Asher waited.

He did not turn, or otherwise acknowledge Jean-Claude as he entered the room. Asher felt that body move close to him, their shoulders almost touching, and against his will, Asher felt his body respond. Jean-Claude's scent invaded the room just as surely as the Master himself had. Asher could feel the other vampire's eyes boring into him, but he still refused to acknowledge him. He kept his eyes firmly trained on the show below. It was a small defiance, and probably petty, but Asher was still raw that Jean-Claude had not come to him sooner, that he had sent his servant to see what was the matter with his second. Asher snorted bitterly to himself, always second, in more ways than one...

The mere seconds of silence built between them and seemed to reach an age. Jean-Claude's soft voice broke the silence at the same time he turned on the light.

"I could say no," he stated simply, his tone almost bored, as if they were arguing over a business venture or even a new suit of clothes.

The tone hurt, though not nearly as much as the idea that it meant so little, his leaving; or that Jean-Claude would force him to remain. "You would do that?" Asher asked, unable to keep the hurt completely from his voice, but he did not turn to look at Jean-Claude, only watched his reflection in the mirrored glass, the impassive face giving nothing away.

Jean-Claude did not answer, just turned and made his way to the door. Before leaving, he paused. "Why?" he asked, with his back to Asher.

"Because I love you too much," Asher whispered.

He could not stop the gasp or the flinch as Jean-Claude's fury swept through the room before the Master vampire slammed the door behind him. Asher slid to the floor, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. What had he done? When had it all changed? This was his fault, Asher knew that, and he knew when it had changed between them, he had done it – built the bridge that first divided them. Julianna...

*********

Asher and his servant had stood nervously as the door to their rooms opened, admitting Jean-Claude. The other male had stopped upon the threshold, his eyes stunned, until they locked gazes. The flash of pain had been gone before Asher could really identify it, but Jean-Claude's voice had been hoarse...

"You marked her?" he had whispered, and Asher could only nod.

Jean-Claude had closed the door, and moved to stand in front of Asher, hardly looking at the woman. His midnight-blue eyes had burned into Asher's paler blue orbs.

"She is yours now?" Jean-Claude had demanded.

Asher had dared, dared to embrace Jean-Claude and naively proclaim. "Non, mon ami, she is ours now."

Jean-Claude had left. It was days before he returned, but when he did, it was as if nothing had happened, at first...

Asher had not noticed at first the change between them, too caught up in the euphoria of his new servant, his new obsession. But as the closeness developed between his servant and his lover, then he realized what he had done. But by then, it was too late. The bridge was between them, they touched no more.

*********

Asher slowly pulled himself upright, rising to his feet. If it were possible for a vampire to feel his great age, then Asher felt his. There was nothing left to be done. He could not, no, would not, open that Pandora's Box with Jean-Claude. There was no need to have his mistakes spelled out, brought out in the open. Asher knew he was the one that had changed things, had ruined what they had. And now he had to go, to stop this before he caused bitterness between Anita and Jean-Claude. He would not do that them.

Asher's own bitter memories of watching his servant cry out for another were enough. He had to let Jean-Claude go, accept that he could never have those times back. Now he had to find a place to go, somewhere a Master would take him.

To be continued...  
  
---


	3. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Spoilers though Cerulean Sins  
> A/N2: This story was the result of a brief passage in Cerulean Sins between Anita, Jean-Claude, and Asher.  
> Summary: The Bridge has allowed Jean-Claude and Asher to love one another, but Asher cannot learn to cross it.  
> //Indicates memory, past event, or flashback//

**The Bridge**  
Food

 

Asher stood silent in a corner of the room as Belle Morte walked around her newest acquisition. The young male vampire tried to keep his eyes upon her as she circled him, but he also kept throwing nervous glances at the other vampires in the room. Asher could see the gleam of hungry approval in her eyes and he had to agree, the young one was lovely. Though not as tall as Asher, maybe only standing five feet eleven inches, the young one seemed to be made up of mostly leg. Beautiful, slim, but with muscles standing out in sharp relief under the thin trousers he wore. Even standing before someone as powerful as Belle, the male stood shoulders back, head raised as he eyed the female vampire with a mix of terror and desire, having never seen anything as breath stealing as this vampire before.

Asher's eyes moved over the short cap of midnight-black curls, down the straight back, pausing briefly on the lovely backside before moving to the vampires face. And what a face it was! A face to rival Asher's own and perhaps even Belle Morte's, herself. Eyes the color of the deepest blue, framed by sooty black lashes so thick and long that they tangled together, giving the young vampire a sultry, just-from-bed look. High, arching cheekbones with an aristocratic nose, skin the color of pale cream, with lips, Asher paused and licked his suddenly dry mouth, full red lips the color of strawberries. Asher's gaze traveled down the slim chest to the small waist. The young one had the look of the under-fed, too much skin and bone showing, at least here he would not starve, not unless Belle desired it.

Asher could see why she wanted him, this Jean-Claude, but to bring him here? To live with them? True, he was stunning, but there were plenty of beautiful vampires at Belle's command. Why had she sent Asher, himself, immediately to obtain this child? Asher knew there had to be something else besides mere desire to possess this Jean-Claude. Belle did nothing for lust's sake alone. Asher was snapped out of his perusal of Jean-Claude by Belle's voice.

"Asher, take our newest pet and clean him up," Belle ordered turning away to speak with one of her servants. Asher came forward and gestured for the young vampire to follow him. They were almost to the door when Belle's next order stopped them. "And feed him also, Asher," she said, dismissing them once again. Jean-Claude's gasped at her words, and curious, Asher looked into the other male's blue eyes. Yes, he could see the hunger there and also the hope. The hope that someone who was offering to feed him could not be as bad as whatever he was being rescued from. Asher did not have the heart to tell him, it was much worse.

Asher was silent as he led Jean-Claude through the massive stone corridors of Belle's castle. He looked back periodically to see if the young one was still behind him. Jean-Claude was preoccupied with the many elaborate arches and rich furnishings that they passed, even though the halls were a bit too dim to really appreciate their richness. Again, Asher had not have the heart to tell Jean-Claude how cold or terrifying these halls could be when you were led down them not knowing what awaited you at the other end.

Asher opened the door to his chambers, gesturing for Jean-Claude to precede him. He watched as the young one entered cautiously and looked about the richly appointed room. Asher turned back to one of the servants that had followed them, giving his orders in a quiet tone that would not carry, even to vampire's hearing. He shut the door and ignoring the curious vampire exploring his rooms, moved to the bathing closet. Asher opened the doors and moved to the large ornate tub. Selecting a bottle from the shelf above the tub; he poured a generous stream of amber-colored oil into the pristine porcelain. He then moved to the armoire and removed one of his own silk robes, laying it across the bed, ignoring the curious guest who watched his every move.

There was a knock on the door and at Asher's command to enter, servants poured in carrying buckets of steaming water. Behind them a man entered, nodding to Asher, he asked. "Is this the one?"

Asher came forward. "Yes Max, this Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude, Max is here to feed you."

Jean-Claude did not move, just stared at the man. Asher thought he saw a look of confusion and a hint of hope on the young vampire's face before Jean-Claude's face fell and he turned away from them, obviously unable to believe their promise, the promise of food. Asher approached the vampire softly, and gently he laid a hand upon the other males shoulder. "Jean-Claude, Max is a wererat. His blood will satisfy much more than a mere human. It is okay, Belle has said you can feed, so come and do so," Asher ordered in a soft but firm voice, and he guided the younger vampire to where Max stood waiting.

Asher ignored the wererat's curious gaze, but he knew within minutes of Max's leaving, the gossip would be fierce regarding Belle's newest toy and Asher's care of him. Max turned his back, swept his hair to the side and presented his neck. Asher guided Jean-Claude close to the wererat, only letting go when Jean-Claude wrapped an arm about Max's chest. Asher moved around to watch Max's expression as Jean-Claude bit sharply into the wererat's neck. The hiss was the only sound Max made, but his face twisted in pain at the vampire's lack of finesse.

"Easy, young one," Asher whispered, understanding what drove the hungry one. "No one will steal this meal away," Asher soothed with his voice. Max's face flushed and he glared at Asher, insulted at the food label. "I would enjoy your bite more, Asher. It has been awhile, care to partake?" Max purred his eyes heavily lidded as the vampire at his neck fed. Well loved was the pleasure Asher's bite could bring, and while the young one could roll his meal like any good vampire, none but Asher could give his prey such orgasmic delight by bite alone.

Asher smirked, but shook his head no. He watched carefully as finally Jean-Claude pulled away, blinking sleepy blue eyes at him, content for the moment. Asher could not take his eyes off Jean-Claude. The satisfied dark blue gaze of the other vampire was drowning. Asher felt he was once more seeing the midnight waters of the sea swirling around him, promising oblivious and escape. Shaking his head, Asher looked about him, noticing in surprise that the room was now empty. Asher turned back to Jean-Claude, purposely avoiding the others trapping gaze. "The bath awaits, little one," he said, gesturing toward the steaming tub, the scent of sandalwood filling the room with its heady fragrance.

Jean-Claude moved sluggishly to the bath. Removing his tattered clothes he sank gracefully into the hot water, a sigh of gratitude escaping his lips. They did not speak as Asher sat in a chair beside the empty fireplace, but against his will, his eyes returned to the bathing male, again and again. Asher's tongue came out to wet his lips as Jean-Claude stood, bathed then only in the light of a few candles, wet, gleaming. He stepped from the tub, reaching for the towels Asher had set close by, ignoring the ice-blue eyes trained on him. Asher's eyes hungrily traveled the length of Jean-Claude's form, taking in every sleek wet line. He watched, still silent as the other vampire slipped into his own robe, imagining the feel of that silk sliding across his own skin. That was when Jean-Claude finally looked at him...

Asher found himself trapped in burning cerulean waves. Caught like a rabbit in a snare, frozen as the hunter eyed his prey. He felt the fire build in the room, the hunger stir. Asher's blood froze in his veins, NO! He thought that weapon was the mistress's own. But there was no denying the vampire seated across from him on Asher's own bed had the fire, the ardeur, the burning hunger. Asher wanted to get up, to flee, but he could not move! He could only watch helplessly as Jean-Claude rose and stalked him. He tried holding up a hand warning the other vampire away, wanting him to stop, but Jean-Claude did not stop. Asher's hand slid along the other male's bare chest as Jean-Claude continued moving forward, not halting until he was seated upon Asher's lap.

Asher gasped as Jean-Claude straddled his lap, his arms going around the other vampire against his will. He had no time to cry halt as a vampire with a different hunger claimed his lips. He could still taste Max upon Jean-Claude's tongue and feel the moan of need the younger vampire gave in his mouth. His own low cry soundless, swallowed by Jean-Claude's lips as he ground himself against Asher's body. Asher could feel Jean-Claude's arousal hard and needy, rubbing against him, and he caught the younger males' hips, pulling him flush against his own thickening length. The desire and fire was too fast to control and the young one too far gone and unable to fight the need. Asher could not stop this, and as Jean-Claude began to thrust and sway against him, he did not want to. The burning had to be satisfied.

Asher felt the release build, but it was too quick, just a flash of feeding and the young one ground himself down once more with a cry, the rush of liquid release wetting the front of them both. Asher could only hold Jean-Claude as he rode out the waves of the ardeur, wondering if Belle knew of her newest possession's blood gift. That the young one had no control was obvious, and Asher knew that only Belle could teach him that control. Perhaps that is why he was now here? Asher continued to hold the shaking vampire on his lap, rubbing a soothing hand across the fragile back unconsciously while his mind swam. The opening of the door had Jean-Claude scrambling from Asher's hold, rising too fast and almost stumbling before Asher caught an elbow gently. They turned to meet Belle's amused eyes.

Asher could not control the anger that gripped him, and he spoke recklessly, already knowing that she had come to take him away. "You could have warned me. I did not know I was also to be food this night!" But Belle just laughed. "I did tell you to feed him." She said and took Jean-Claude from Asher's room. It was weeks before he saw the young one again....

*********

Asher gripped his length tighter, arching his hips off the bed as he fisted his arousal. His thought filled with images of a robed, wet Jean-Claude grinding against him, hungry for him. Asher's fist moved up and down urgently, his thumb swiping across the head of his length gathering the dripping fluids there and spreading them down his arousal, making the glide smooth and wet; and when he came, it was Jean-Claude's name he cried out....

To be continued...  
  
---


	4. Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Spoilers through ID  
> Disclaimer: All the characters of Anitaverse belong to Laurell K. Hamilton.   
> A/N: This story came about from a passage between Anita/Jean-Claude and  
> Asher in Cerulean Sins  
> A/N2: // indicates flashback, dream, or a memory

**The Bridge**  
Visitor

 

Asher said nothing as the door creaked open and Jason slipped inside. Asher continued his packing as the werewolf curled up in Asher's favorite reading chair. He carefully wrapped another precious item, amazed at what he had accumulated since joining Jean-Claude in St. Louis. Besides it did no good to chastise Jason Jean-Claude's pomme de sang often looked for rebellions to become involved in, liking nothing more than throwing his sarcastic and often humorous comments right back at any form of correction.

Asher liked Jason indeed; the young man was a favorite of the older vampires in Jean-Claude's service. Just last month, Jason had organized what he called a vegetable night. Jean-Claude, Asher, and Requiem had joined Jason on the couch, watching in amazement as a wide-screen TV and DVD player were rolled into Jean-Claude's white living room. Jason had a large bowl of popcorn and something that Asher thought looked disgusting, called gummy bears, and the remote. The werewolf then proceeded to make them sit through hours of what he called B horror flicks. Surprisingly, the night had been a lot of fun. They had made endless cracks about the movie vampires, and the werewolves had Jason rolling with laughter. Jason called the night, veggin out.

Asher glanced at Jason as he added books to the large trunk he was packing. Jason was watching Asher closely and when he caught his eye, he smirked at the blond. Asher could only shake his head, knowing he was not getting rid of the werewolf until Jason had his say. They continued this silent standoff until Asher closed the trunk and carried it the door, setting it down against the wall. He turned and caved, raising a brow to Jason. "Well?" he asked.

Jason smirked once more. "So, you are really running?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

Asher let the flash of anger pass through him. He knew Jason would enjoy it too much if Asher returned the volley in haste. Instead he ignored the werewolf and moved to his armoire.

Not one to be daunted, Jason asked. "Where are you going?"

"Seattle," Asher answered simply.

"Do you have to inform the Council?" Jason asked, his tone showing only curiosity and Asher wondered when he would get to what he really wanted to say. People often underestimated Jason, seeing only his youth and blondness. However, the werewolf was very perceptive and deceptively smart. He often tapped danced around, throwing comments out to misdirect before he got to his point, often leaving the recipient speechless with his insights.

"Jean-Claude thought it best not to say anything unless they asked," Asher replied.

"He is pissed you know?" Jason said eyeing the large suitcase Asher pulled from the closet. He could not believe that the blond vampire was really leaving Jean-Claude, nor could he imagine why anyone would want to leave the Master of the City. Asher said nothing. Jason let the silence build but he did not take his eyes off the vampire. Asher could ignore the werewolf, but the longer those baby blues followed him from spot to spot the more they began to annoy him. Finally he snapped and gave Jason the opening he was waiting for. "What?" Asher demanded.

Jason just smirked. He pasted a thoughtful look upon his face, but his eyes mocked Asher. "I just can't figure it out," he said, and then waited....

Asher knew he should kick the young male out on his ass, but he fell for it anyway. "Figure what out?" he asked.

Jason laughed a bit. "All this time, we all knew you wanted back with Jean-Claude, and you've learned to love Anita. So I guess I'm confused. What's the problem? You get to fuck them both now; you're welcomed into their bed. Hell, I'd give my left nut to have that." Jason laughed again at the look of anger on Asher's face.

"It's none of your concern, Jason. Drop it," Asher ordered, slamming books into the suitcase.

Jason got up from Asher's chair and, coming over to the bed, he flopped onto it gracefully. Propping his chin in his hands he smiled with false innocence at the angry vampire. "So what? Now that you have had them both, you don't like them anymore?" Jason mocked.

Asher exploded. The combination of leaving, the confrontation with Jean-Claude and the memories, now Jason's probing sending him over the edge. "I haven't had them both!" Asher yelled, throwing the book in his hands across the room violently. Asher stared at Jason in shock, unable to believe that he had revealed himself to Jean-Claude's pomme de sang. He sat on the bed, his back to the werewolf and covered his face with his hands.

Jason moved up and sat beside Asher. He was quiet for several minutes, letting the blond regain control over his emotions. Finally, he spoke. "I thought every thing was fine between you now? I thought you and Jean-Claude were reunited again like before?" Jason asked his voice softer, no longer taunting or mocking.

Asher let his hands drop into his lap; he stared blankly of into the distance. "It is like the last time we were together, only those times were wrong also, and it is, once again, my fault," Asher said softly, then he said nothing more, lost in memories that he would not share with anyone. He did not notice when Jason got up and left.

Asher gently removed the soft white arms that were wrapped so tightly about his neck. He avoided the amorous kisses that peppered his face. "Julianne, ma cherie, one moment please," Asher softly said, extracting himself from his servants embrace. "Let me see what is keeping him," he pleaded, before leaving the bed and the room.

Asher slipped silently into the other room, his eyes upon the figure standing so still looking out into the night. His eyes lovingly ran over the scarlet robed body, noticing how the candlelight gleamed of the soft raven-colored tresses and highlighted the long elegant line of his back. That he did not notice the stiffness of the shoulders or the sadness that clung to the figure at the windows, he would later blame it on his own blindness. "Jean-Claude," he softly called.

"Yes," Jean-Claude answered, turning to face the blond, his face carefully blank.

Asher took a tentative step forward. "Aren't you coming to bed?" he asked, unsure of Jean-Claude's mood, but sensing something was wrong.

Jean-Claude could not quite mask the look of surprise upon his face. "But I thought you were abed with your servant?" he said, confusion and a faint hint of hope in his tone.

Asher frowned and shook his head. "We are, but we have been awaiting you," he said. Asher looked more closely at Jean-Claude, seeing the younger vampire's confusion. He drew closer and took Jean-Claude's hand gently drawing him toward the open bedroom door. Jean-Claude resisted his pull.

"You want us both...together, Asher? In your bed?" Jean-Claude's demanded, jerking his hand from the other vampires hold.

Asher stopped, he looked back at the door and then to Jean-Claude. Surely Jean-Claude had expected this? Asher had thought his intentions clear. She was to share, she was theirs now. Despite himself, his voice came out impatient. "Jean-Claude, come to bed. Our servant is waiting!" he stated and again grabbed Jean-Claude's hand, pulling the dark-haired vampire to the other room.

Asher could still recall the joy he had felt when they had all made love together that first time. How Julianne had fallen so in love with Jean-Claude. But now, thinking back to that night, he knew that's when it had happened, when he had made his mistake and had lost Jean-Claude. It had been close to dawn and the three of them lay upon Asher's bed, Julianne in the middle of the two males, right where Asher had placed her. Jean-Claude's whisper had entered Asher's subconscious right before the dawn took him, but it was only centuries later that the full impact of Jean-Claude's words hit him. Jean-Claude had whispered a question that had haunted Asher's heart ever since, and now, a question that he asked himself everyday. "Why was I not enough for you?"

To be continued...  
  
---


	5. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2005
> 
> A/N: This story came about from a passage between Anita/Jean-Claude and  
> Asher in Cerulean Sins  
> A/N2: // indicates flashback, dream, or a memory  
> A/N3: I am so sorry for the long delay in an update, but RL got in the way. Also  
> my wonderful beta Jodi is out of town until next week, so the next part will not be  
> up until then. Thanks to everyone who wrote me to review, I really appreciate it!

**The Bridge**  
Want

 

Asher hesitantly pushed aside the heavy white drapes and stepped into Jean-Claude's living room. The summons had surprised him. They had stepped carefully about each other since their confrontation at the club, neither wanting to open old wounds, neither knowing how to bridge the gulf that separated them. Jean-Claude stood with his back to the entrance, facing the faux fireplace, staring up at the painting Musette had delivered in the guise of a gift. Asher stumbled at the sight. It had been put away after Musette's departure. Where, Asher had not asked just glad it had been removed.

The painting was a traditional scene, Cupid asleep with a candle-wielding Psyche finally getting a glimpse of the God of Love. Asher played Cupid, laying on his side, one hand on his stomach, the other flung outward as if Cupid were sleeping. He was all golden, glowing in candlelight. He looked so warm in the painting, almost as if the glow about him provided heat. His nipples were dark and the line of hair from stomach to groin beckoned by its almost glistening look on the canvas. The perfect curve of his hip drew the eye to his arousal, which lay partially erect, curled against his stomach. Breaking up the gold, standing out in their stark whiteness were the huge perfect wings the artist had given Asher.

Peeking from behind, so delicately beautiful that Asher's breath still sped up, was Jean-Claude in his part as the smitten Psyche. Asher well remembered that face, the make-up softening the line of his jaw, making Jean-Claude's full red lips pout and entice, raising the hunger in Asher with just one look from those sultry midnight blue eyes and promises from those plump lips. If one looked closely, they could see Asher's eyes open to mere slits, the hunger in them burning brightly for anyone to notice, hunger for Jean-Claude.

Asher flinched at the perfection the picture promised. No more was he that Asher; one who could lay unabashed in all his glory for all eyes to see, proud that he could cause the need in those blue eyes that devoured him. He was almost glad that Jean-Claude now stood where Asher did not have to look into his eyes. That Asher could pretend that they still held that look of desire and want, instead of the pity that he knew was there, pity because all that beauty was no more.

Jean-Claude still had not addressed him, or turned from his appraisal of the painting, and Asher could not stand to look upon himself any longer. "Why have you brought that out here, in the open?" he demanded, his voice trembling despite his efforts to steady it.

But Jean-Claude only shrugged his shoulders, not turning around, continuing to stare upward at what they once were.

Asher took one small step toward Jean-Claude. "Put it away, Jean-Claude. Bury it back among the dust and ghosts. Let it be forgotten again," he whispered, pleading, the pain of merely being in the same room as the painting almost undoing him.

Jean-Claude whirled suddenly to face Asher, and Asher took a step back at the anger in the other vampire's eyes. "Why do you care?" Jean-Claude spat. "You will be gone; never will you have to gaze upon our images again!" Jean-Claude's eyes blazed, spitting blue-flame at Asher, before he abruptly turned away as if the sight of the blond was too much for him to gaze upon even in anger. His whisper was too low for any about Asher to hear, and he wished with all his being that he had not heard it. "Leave me with something when you go," Asher heard before he fled the room, the painting, and the pain his very presence brought. He never did ask Jean-Claude why he had summoned him.

*********

It was that time; the time between sleep and awake, between dawn and night. That time when the soul hung on for a few previous moments. Not with much clarity, just enough to make the images and voices appear fuzzy and fragmented, just enough time to retain some memory.

They had added chains, to hold him down. Their human hands not enough to hold a vampire while they tortured him. Not enough to hold him down while they murdered his servant.

The heavy silver chains shackled his wrist to the floor, pulling his arms down so that all he could do was kneel with his head hanging, defeated. His long golden hair matted with sweat and blood from the fists that had held his head still by the hair while other hands poured the flesh-eating holy water down his face and

body. Many hands had been required to restrain him but his struggles had torn the hair from his very scalp, sending trickles of blood down his now ruined face.

He had knelt there defeated until he heard her cries and smelled the smoke from the torch they used to light the fire. Then he had fought back, struggled, kicked and cursed the so-called holy men who watched so gleefully as she burned. His scream and hers coming at the same moment, "Jean-Claude!"

Asher could hear the night coming alive, could feel the arrival of life to the other creatures in the Circus; but he lay still upon his bed, the vestiges of the dream still floating through his mind. Asher could still hear her voice screaming out Jean-Claude's name, while he had raged. How dare she! But time had past, and some of the bitterness had left him; he was honest at least with himself. He had brought them together, made it possible for both he and his servant to fall in love with the same vampire. How could he blame her?

He remembered lying there, the smell of burning flesh soaking into his clothes, hair, his very skin. Lying on the cold floor, waiting for them to come back and finish what they had started by killing him too. He'd given up, just curled into a little ball and given in. Asher had truly believed he would never see Jean-Claude again, never hold him, and never tell him how much he loved him. Instead as he lay there, all he could think of was that she had got to call out his name, that he, Asher had given her the right to scream for the one she loved for help. It was his fault; Asher had shared him with her. It became very ironic to him, that he became jealous of his own servant, and through means which he, himself, created.

Asher finally dragged himself from his bed. He had no desire to feed, or dress, no desire for anything but to stand there and gaze about the room he had called home. This was to be his last rising in this room, this city, and he wanted so much to remember how he came here, and how happy he had been to be joined once more with Jean-Claude. But it had not lasted, and this, too, was his fault. Asher had become greedy, wanting more than he was entitled to. Had he really expected Jean-Claude to be free? To be waiting for him? After centuries of hatred? Asher was aware that he was a fool and that he had caused discord between Jean-Claude and Anita; something he had never intended to do.

He felt Jean-Claude's presence before the Master knocked. "Come in, Jean-Claude," Asher called out, his tone weary, already dreading this confrontation.

His heart quickened at the sight of the other vampire. That had never changed. But the hesitant manner in which they regarded each other, that had...

To be continued...  
  
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	6. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The Bridge had kept Jean-Claude and Asher from loving each other, and Asher has not the courage to cross it.  
> Disclaimers: This story is for enjoyment purposes only, no copyright infringement is intended. Laurell K. Hamilton owns all.  
> A/N: // indicates dreams, flashback, or past events.

**The Bridge**  
Desire

 

For one foolish shining moment, as they stood facing each other, Asher allowed himself to hope. But it was fleeting. Jean-Claude looked straight back at him, no softening of his hard gaze. With lips pressed tightly together, he addressed his reason for coming.

"Alaric has agreed to your request and the conditions under which you shall enter his service," Jean-Claude paused, and then paced a little away from Asher, almost it seemed so that he did not have to look upon the blond any longer. "You will be safe there from the council. It was within your rights to petition any Master for servitude in their territory. Alaric can protect you," Jean-Claude said, looking back only once as he made for the door.

Asher crossed the distance between them in a flash, his hand upon Jean-Claude's arm before he even realized it. "Jean-Claude," he said, his plea evident.

Jean-Claude turned to face him, and all Asher could do was look into those midnight-blue eyes. For a brief second, only a flash; Asher saw Jean-Claude's own anguish, before the Master vampire pulled his mask back into place. But it was enough, enough to weaken Asher's resolve and to make him foolish. Before any common sense could halt him, he had pulled a stunned Jean-Claude into his arms, and covered the other vampire's lips with his own.

The taste, Jean-Claude's own unique taste, burst across his tongue, that oh-so longed for taste igniting his hunger and desire; and he feasted for the too-short minutes that Jean-Claude allowed him. His tongue eagerly pushed past fangs to capture Jean-Claude's mouth. Asher poured every bit of longing and need he possessed into that kiss, somehow knowing it would be his last chance. And indeed, it was. Jean-Claude shoved Asher away and his fury hit Asher much harder than the kiss ever could.

Jean-Claude hissed and stared at Asher, his anger turning his eyes almost black. "So you would take that which I would not willingly give? Are you no different from the Council, Asher?" The heartache and disbelief in his voice had Asher crying out his denial.

"Non, non, Jean-Claude!" Asher held out his hands pleadingly. "Why? Why will you not forgive me?" he begged.

*********

The raw wounds, both outside and in, were still fresh when they returned to the council, the bargaining and agreed payment between Jean-Claude and Belle unknown to Asher as he hid amidst the shadows. The rejection from his mistress bed had him hunting the halls and passages, always on the look out for new places to hide himself and where he could lick his wounds in solitude. He would peek inside rooms and halls, but always staying in the dark so that he could not be seen. No one wanted to see him anymore anyway.

It was Belle who first pointed out that he must have loved causing Jean-Claude hurt, and until that moment it had never occurred to him that he had, in fact, wounded the other vampire. He had strayed to the court's main hall, hidden in the corner behind drapes; and watched as Jean-Claude was horse to the Traveler. Belle had been the only one to spot him, for which Asher was thankful; having been the butt of the Council's member's cruelty and scorn too many times now. Belle had been laughing as they all watched the depravities that Jean-Claude's beautiful body was subjected to.

Asher knew nothing of the payment his healing by the council had cost Jean-Claude, or that his lover had been so very willing to pay it. Belle had moved to stand beside his hiding place, casually leaning against the wall, enjoying the activities being performed.

"Asher, I would have never thought it of you. Indeed, my pet, you have surprised me greatly," Belle said, her tone amused and mocking.

Asher did not answer only trembled at her nearness. But she did not really expect a response. "You hid it well. If I had only known of your pleasure in causing the ones you loved so much anguish and pain. Oh what fun we could have had," she said, laughter heavy in her voice. Great pleasure was evident in her words. "At first," she went on, almost absently. "I thought you ignorant of Jean-Claude's feelings of abandonment and his pain at seeing you with your new plaything, your servant. But now I realize that you must have greatly enjoyed rubbing it into his face every time you made love to her, or put her first. And now, you have provided the court with such great fun, of course all at Jean-Claude's expense." Belle laughed and wandered of, just as casually as she had approached.

She left behind devastation, as the truth finally unveiled itself to Asher, and he finally became conscious what he had done...

*********

Asher saw the stunned disbelief in Jean-Claude's eyes. As if he could not fathom Asher question. Asher watched as the Master vampire shook his head, the questions in his eyes replaced by an almost blind fury, and he spat with anger at Asher. "Because you never ask!" he almost yelled, before turning and moving to the door. There Jean-Claude paused, as if waiting for Asher to say something, ask something that he had not found the courage to do all these years.

Asher was frozen. He knew he had never addressed the bridge he placed between them, and he could not find the nerve to do so now. Jean-Claude was right. He had never asked for forgiveness or made amends for the hurt he head caused the other vampire, and as he stood there staring at Jean-Claude's back, he could not find the guts to do so now, and Jean-Claude, hearing nothing behind him, left; shutting the door with an air of finality.

Asher could only slump on the corner of his bed and gaze upon the closed door. Was he to spend eternity hiding from the hurt he caused? He was a coward...

To be continued...  
  
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	7. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See beginning

**The Bridge**  
Regret

 

The lonely candle next to the bed was not enough to penetrate the deep shadows lurking around the edges of the room. Nothing moved in its stillness; the room, the heavy drapes upon the bed hid the occupant. The brooding heaviness of the room matched the mood of the vampire lying prone on the bed. Jean-Claude had not moved for hours. He had awakened, but made no effort to rise or even to call for his Pomme de sang to feed. Tonight was the night. In a matter of hours Asher would be gone; this time perhaps, for good.

Jean-Claude knew he was running out of time. For an immortal this was unusual; time was suddenly his enemy. When he had left the Council and joined Nikolaos’s kiss, he had thought that departure was their ending. But then Asher had come and stayed; now it was he who was the one leaving, and Jean-Claude did not know if he could survive it this time. He loved and needed Anita, but he also burned deep inside for Asher, had always burned for the other vampire, even when they had been apart. He could not remember a time when he did not want and love Asher, despite the hurt, resentment, and distance; he still felt the pull of the other male.

*********

Jean-Claude groaned and rolled over to face Belle, he ignore her amused smirk; this was the last time he had to see it after all...

“So you leave us this night, Jean-Claude. Your debt is paid and you journey to join Nikolaos. I bet you are looking forward to this, yes?” Belle asked, her tone mocking, but her eyes burned.

Jean-Claude rose to a sitting position, the flayed skin along his back pulling sharply at his motion. He kept his tone respectful, but with great difficulty. “Yes, the Council and you approved my petition to join her in America and she accepted me into her service.”

Belle stepped forward, closer to him, and Jean-Claude fought not to flinch as she ran a finger along the deepest cut on his back.

“But what of your sacrifice? The reason you sought our aid and accepted our price?” Belle laughed and backed up a bit to look once more into Jean-Claude’s face. “You now leave him behind to my tender mercies? What of your noble sacrifice, hmm Jean-Claude?” Belle’s voice mocked and was rich in promise for Asher’s future under her care.

He fought gallantly to conceal the hurt and heartache her words caused. She well knew that Asher had shunned all contact with Jean-Claude since his rescue and Julianne’s death. His head slumped in defeat, partly because he could not fight it any longer and partly because he knew it was what it would take to placate her. “Asher is beyond my reach now. He wished nothing to do with me,” he answered honestly.

“Yes, it appears that he hates you and wishes nothing more than to never look upon you again. He was actually happy when I told him of your impending departure.” Belle clicked her tongue and shook her head pityingly at Jean-Claude. “He loved his servant greatly and blames you for her death. I do not believe, Jean-Claude that he will ever forgive you. In fact, he has petitioned the Council for revenge.”

Jean-Claude felt each word draw blood, much more than any whip along his body could have done. He briefly gave some thought to what revenge Asher would ask, but it was a fleeting thought, not near as sharp or painful as the thought that he was now hated by the he loved so much.

“Of course,” Belle went on. “We refused. For now,” she said. “But I am sure you are tired of hearing about Asher, ruined now as he is.” Belle moved to the cell door, casually throwing back at Jean-Claude, “Enjoy your service to Nikolaos, Jean-Claude.” The heavy door clanged shut behind her, and Jean-Claude shivered as her laughter floated on the air long after her departure.

*********

There were no clocks in Jean-Claude’s bedroom, but he could swear that he heard the tick-tock of time passing. If he had been allowing his heart to beat he could blame it on that, but he was afraid that the organ would shatter if he allowed blood to flow through it. Every muscle in his body was tightly clenched a necessity to keep him from flying from the bed and running after Asher.

If he did run to Asher now, the only words he could offer that the blond vampire would accept would be those of forgiveness. But did he forgive Asher? Jean-Claude had come to care for Julianna, even love her, but he had never forgiven Asher for bringing her between them. By the end, he had resented her presence and wished she were not there. She had been a bridge that Jean-Claude had not known how to cross and one that Asher had seemed not to mind. But were hundreds of years of resentment and anger worth saying goodbye to Asher, maybe forever? Could he let go that anger for love of Asher?

Jean-Claude knew Anita thought she was the reason he had kept Asher at arms length, and he never corrected that assumption. But Jean-Claude had not been able to resist Asher completely. Anita thought she knew his feelings for Asher because she shared some of his memories of the blond vampire. If she had truly known the depths of his desire and need for Asher, Jean-Claude was not sure that she would still be with him. He accepted the other males in her heart and bed, had not come right out and asked for Asher’s presence in theirs, but he had hinted and manipulated the circumstances when they arose.

Jean-Claude had welcomed Asher into her arms, had even held the other vampire himself, but he had not tasted of the blond himself, only allowed himself through Anita to enjoy Asher as of old. He had made no effort to bridge her touch and take his own taste and touch, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit how much that he had wanted to. In a way, Asher’s resentment was Jean-Claude’s own. If the other vampire had not decided to leave, to end their ménage a trois would he have come to resent Anita also?

Jean-Claude introspective was cut off as he felt Anita’s presence in the Circus. He had known she would not accept Asher’s leaving easily, but he neither spoke nor moved she entered his room and came to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the heat of her gaze upon him and forced himself to ignore it.

“You’re running out of time,” she said as neutrally as she was able.

Still, he did not speak. He didn’t know what to say to her.

“I don’t want him to leave, Jean-Claude, and I know you don’t either. So what holds you to this bed instead of going to Asher and ordering him to stay?” she demanded. It was so Anita that Jean-Claude almost smiled.

He finally met her angry eyes, but he did not answer her question. Instead he asked one of his own. “Ma petite, your words lead me to believe that you are suddenly all right with the idea of Asher and I. Why, suddenly is this acceptable to you when before you could not stomach the very idea?” he demanded, but there was no real heat or weight to his voice.

Anita did not rise to his challenge. Jean-Claude could tell she was trying to read him, but he kept his thoughts carefully shielded. He should have realized that her question was coming, but it still blind-sided him.

“Is my permission, if that’s what you want to call it, all that is holding you back?” Anita asked.

Jean-Claude looked away. He heard her give a harsh laugh and felt her rise from the bed. “Well,” she said. “I hope what ever it is that keeps you apart is worth losing him forever. Damn you, Jean-Claude,” she spat, angrily moving to the curtained door. “You made me love him, and now you are allowing him to leave us both!”

Jean-Claude flinched at her words and the anger he could feel pouring from her, but he did not stop her from leaving. His words were whispered long after she was gone.

“You are correct, ma petite; I am allowing him to leave. I am a coward,” his voice broke and he whispered so softly few ears could have caught it. “I am so afraid of not being enough for him, again...”

To be continued...

   
  
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	8. Crossings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See beginning

**The Bridge**  
Crossings

 

A/N: // indicate dreams, flashbacks, or memories.

 

 

 

 

//          Jean-Claude stood alone, bags and coffin at his feet. No one came to see him off, to wish him bonne chance, not that he expected any sendoff but it was dismal standing in the castle’s vacant hall waiting for the carriage to take him to a ship that would cross an ocean. That was many miles to put between him and the castle’s inhabitants, but even that distance would not make him feel safe. The last years of payment had taken their toll of him and he flinched at every noise. He did not know what welcome awaited him in America, but surely it would be better than the torment and anguish he was leaving behind.

 

“Think you are escaping?” A voice hissed from behind Jean-Claude, and he spun around not recognizing the venom filled tones.

 

Jean-Claude felt bile rise. “A-Asher?” he asked, voice breaking in stunned disbelief. The horrid vision before him could not be his golden Asher! He took a stumbling step towards the waif-like vampire, but Asher shrank back, bravado fading as terror further distorted his features.

 

“Stay away!” he spat at Jean-Claude, slinking back to the comfort of a shadowed corner. “You think yourself safe, leaving this behind. But I will have my revenge, no matter how far you run.” Asher threw one last hate filled glance at Jean-Claude before the shadows swallowed him completely.

 

“Asher!” Jean-Claude called desperately, but the other vampire was gone. He shuddered at what the blond vampire had been reduced to. Asher had been skin and bones, clothes threadbare and hanging from his tall frame. Asher’s scars stood out, angry and red. They should have healed more than they had! But it had been Asher’s eyes that caused Jean-Claude the most pain. No longer filled with love and desire, the fires of madness burned in the ice-blue depths. That hatred was for Jean-Claude.

 

Now he knew for sure. There was nothing left for him here... //

 

 

Jean-Claude walked in the empty room. No trace did there seem of the one who had occupied it, but Jean-Claude caught a hint of Asher’s scent. He had watched, hidden behind the door, as Asher’s things were loaded in the car. He had bitten his lip, drawing blood, as Asher had gotten in the car. He could see him now in his mind’s eye, standing on the tarmac awaiting the plane that would take him far away from Jean-Claude.

 

The council’s surprise visit to St. Louis had been his first sighting and contact with Asher since leaving Belle’s court. He could still remember walking out of the restaurant towards Anita’s car and freezing. It had taken every power he possessed, and all the many and terrible lessons he had learned at Nikolaos’s hands, to remain impassive. When the light of the match had struck Asher’s face, he had felt his heart break all over again. He had, for one foolish moment, thought Asher had come for him, until he heard him laugh and had seen the fires of madness still burning so brightly in his eyes.

 

He had shuddered when Asher hissed that he had no right to speak of Julianna. He had wanted to shout, “But you brought her to us, not me!” Asher had smiled and told him he wanted Jean-Claude’s pain, that he, Jean-Claude, had finally given Asher the tool for his revenge. Asher spoke of how he had waited for Jean-Claude to love again, and that love was never free, it came with a price. And all Jean-Claude could think of at that moment was that Asher has always made him pay for his love, his love for Asher, for Julianna, and now for Anita. When did he stop paying?

 

 

As Asher had continued to spew his venom it had come to Jean-Claude that Asher blamed him for deserting him. Not when the humans had captured him and Julianna, but later when Jean-Claude had come to America, and also for daring to love another, another that was not Asher. He had felt gladness and even happiness when some reason returned to Asher’s eyes and Asher said that he forgave Jean-Claude, but he knew that they both were untruthful. Being in each other’s presence once more had proven more powerful than the shallow promises of vengeance the Council promised, but not quite enough to heal the hurts they suffered.

 

It had been torture of any sort being so close yet so far apart. Allowing Anita to bridge some of that distance had helped, but obviously not enough. Asher was gone…

*~*

 

He couldn’t stay away, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist, one last glance, one more word, something. So he approached him silently, knowing that Asher had sensed his presence long before Jean-Claude came into view. But once there, standing in front of Asher, Jean-Claude was no longer sure it had been a good idea. “I do not want you to leave,” he said simply, allowing the plea in his voice to be heard and hopefully felt.

 

He could not understand why Asher was doing this? Why he was leaving? Jean-Claude had stayed all those years ago. Was this some form of payback for imagined wrongs?

*~*

Asher had sensed his presence, no vampire powers were needed for that. He closed his eyes tightly, “Do not hope, do not hope,” he repeated over and over again. Was he happy for one last glimpse of midnight-colored curls and eyes as blue as the finest gems? Of course, but Asher would not, could not let his heart be filled with false hope once again. He wouldn’t survive it this time. He heard Jean-Claude words, heard clearly the plea in his voice, but when he turned around he did not see the acceptance and forgiveness in Jean-Claude’s eyes.

 

Why? Why was Jean-Claude doing this to him? Asking him to stay when nothing would change? Asher did not understand how Jean-Claude could asked him to leave with the same hurt that Jean-Claude himself had dealt with all those years ago. Was this some sort of punishment?

 

Finally, Asher solemnly said, “I know.” His eyes sad and red-tinted with the tears he fought to hold at bay. “But it is for the best, Jean-Claude. Perhaps this way we both can find some happiness, if only for a little while.”  Asher did not really believe this, but what else did he have to offer? Escape was his only option.

 

Jean-Claude gave bitter laugh. “And it is apart that we will find this?” he asked, and Asher heard the disbelief and irony, so heavy in his tone.

 

Asher laughed also, harsh and cutting in the night air. “We cannot find it together anymore, can we?” he asked, thought he hated it, he could not help that the merest hint of hope was in his tone.

 

Asher watched as Jean-Claude broke just a little, and took one step closer to Asher. “Why? Why cannot you be happy with where we are? Why must you-?” he broke off, choking on the question. Asher did not know if Jean-Claude was seeing himself all those years ago, bravely asking the very same thing. But Jean-Claude had not asked.

 

Asher could only stare, stunned for a moment, unable to believe that Jean-Claude could ask something so devastating of him. “Be happy settling for what I can have of you? Like you did with Julianna?” Asher demanded, daring Jean-Claude it seemed to finally speak the truth. That he had settled for less of Asher, settled for less of the love he had thought only his own.

 

Asher lifted his chin. “Do you think my love less because I chose to leave? Not accepted my role in your life and bed with another there between us? If you think it makes you stronger, or feeds your sense of irony, poor Jean-Claude! Cast aside for love of a human, and now it is my turn!” Asher taunted mockingly, voice breaking and so heavy with hurt almost feeling a shot of victory as Jean-Claude turned away. Asher felt a sharp stab of rejection; he would not even face Asher! He did not understand that Jean-Claude could not face Asher’s pain on top of his own.

 

But Asher refused to let Jean-Claude retreat. He followed, stalking Jean-Claude until only a hairsbreadth separated them. “All these years you have been able to hold your hurt close to you like the comfort of a heavy coat. And then I came to you, but your heart had found another,” he leaned closer to Jean-Claude, so close that he knew Jean-Claude could feel his breath across his face. “But you still wanted me!” Asher whispered. “I’ll tell you now what you wanted to hear all those years ago. I am sorry,” Asher leaned down and brushed his lips across Jean-Claude’s.

 

But Jean-Claude flinched away. “I cannot!” he cried, and Asher could see the almost hunted look in his eyes.

 

Pride deserted him and Asher held out both hands pleadingly. “Touch me, Jean-Claude. Touch me with your hand, not Julianna’s or Anita’s, just yours,” he begged.

 

A sob escaped Asher before he pressed a hand to his lips, because all he saw in Jean-Claude’s eyes was fear and denial.

 

“I cannot,” Jean-Claude whispered.

 

Asher turned away. “Then I cannot stay,” he said, and walked to the plane, forcing his body to move forward to stay upright, leaving Jean-Claude staring at his retreating back…

   
  
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The End


End file.
